


What the mind forgets the heart remembers

by IggysBunny



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Alternative Lifestyles, Angst, Art, Baker Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is more suave as a human, Eventual Fluff, Fanart, Florist Crowley (Good Omens), Gabriel is an asshole, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Self-Conscious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), To Be Continued, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 05:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21031316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggysBunny/pseuds/IggysBunny
Summary: The apocalypse did NOT happen. It was not supposed to NOT happen, as far as Gabriel and Beelzebub were concerned. Since their first attempt to punish their respective Earthly representatives (read: get revenge) didn’t work out, they decided to go bigger. Obviously, the best way to do that was to split the two. Aziraphale and Crowley would not remember who they are, lose their powers, become human. A patisserie and a flower shop would be involved. Of course, the plan was rather big, they needed the approval of God herself. Well, The Almighty agreed to it, under one important condition- in case the (now both) former angels fell for each other, everything would be back to normal. Naturally a demon in nature would never love an angel, and vice versa. Right?





	What the mind forgets the heart remembers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the awesome artists who collaborated with me in Good Omens Mini Bang 2019! 
> 
> You can find the author of the adorable watercolor painting as @ladykoshmar on tumblr.  
You can find the author of the wonderful digital painting on Twitter as @esmiora and on Instagram as @esmioraa
> 
> Make sure to send them some love ♥

Times were a lot harder after the Apocalypse- as above, in Heaven, so below, in Hell. The failed attempt of punishing the two beings responsible for ruining the Big Event caused a lot of problems. Rumours generally tend to spread fast, after all, especially of such scandalous nature, and Gabriel was furious. He wasn't supposed to get angry, but no one is perfect. Not even archangels. He felt utterly humiliated as he thought back to the moment he watched the Principality step into the flames. The hellfire was supposed to destroy Aziraphale completely, from what he knew of celestial beings. (And mind you, he knew much more about those than about simple humans) 

After Michael came back from Hell with the news of what happened with the demon, Crawley or whatever the name was, Gabriel suspected there was something fishy, if not concerning going on. The two beings had become so human they might impose danger to with their respective powers unrestrained. Naturally, he did what any responsible Archangel would. He met up with Lord Beelzebub. 

They had had a few encounters over the centuries, and most of them had not been unbearable. Despite the obvious differences, they were quite similar to one another. They’d never admit it, but it was nice to have a break from their respective headquarters. They brainstormed, and discussed, and finally, few months after the first attempt to punish Aziraphale and Crowley, their plan was complete. They needed to separate them somehow. Yet, they were sent to the Earth separately in the first place and their duties brought them together; what Gabriel and Beelzebub needed was more than the mere separation. They couldn’t risk having the couple perform their duties and meet again! 

They agreed to make them, for the time being, powerless, or better said, simply human. It seemed like a decent idea. 

The last thing they needed was for the big plan to be God Approved™️. The plan required a great amount of interference, which is why they couldn’t do it straight away. Lord Beelzebub tried to convince Gabriel it was an unnecessary formality, but the Archangel was a stubborn creature. And so they contacted God with the request. Much to their amazement, the Almighty let them realize the plan- with a few strings attached though. A) The story of their human lives needed to be thought through well and B) In case they admit their feelings to each other, then and then only will they regain their powers (there was also a passage about terms and conditions of the contract in tiny letters, which neither of them paid much attention to).

It was laughable. Beelzebub was once again reminded of how ridiculous Heaven was. No demon would ever fall in love with an angel, they thought to themselves. Gabriel felt the same way. The deal was practically for ever. They both accepted it, satisfied, and started working on the “life” of the two beings. 

They met up in a neutral space between Heaven and Hell which wasn’t the Earth, each with their own copy of Humans 101 - A quick guide to the human way of life and they started flipping through the pages. It was a useless book, written by an angel who knew nothing of the hardship of earthly beings. They didn’t have much to pick from though. There generally weren’t many books on humans in Heaven or Hell. 

“Well, I feel like I know less about humanz than I knew before reading that. You cannot even write a decent book about the one thing you watch over.” Beelzebub scoffed. They enjoyed teasing the archangel. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “I’d love to see your people write even a single sentence without typos, let alone a book. The mail exchange with Hell is... eh, literal hell.” 

Beelzebub narrowed their eyes almost dangerously. 

“Grammar is your silly invention and we refuse to abide by your stupid rulez! Anyway-“ They decided, despite themselves, to finish the task, because Gabriel was annoying and they wanted to go home. 

“I believe we should focus on the work. We need some family background, their education, occupation, and...” Beelzebub went on, listing stuff.

Gabriel would lie to himself had he said it wasn’t cute at all how dedicated and systematic the demon (normally such a chaotic being) was right now. It was funny. Beelzebub’s approach was different from his demonicl colleagues. 

“How about you work on Crowley’s and I do Aziraphale’s details? Then we can compare them.” Gabriel suddenly interrupted.

The demon agreed to it and they got to work, separately.

~~~

“So, finally- the occupation. Aziraphale could work in a bookshop, sure, but that is too close to what he does now. I think a shop with cakes would be a great choice. He has a weak spot for human nourishment; could be interesting.” Gabriel smirked cockily. 

Beelzebub nodded, poker-faced. “Certainly. I was thinking plantz for Crowley. According to Hastur, he is fond of plants, for whatever reason. Humans have plants shops, for whatever reason. It sounds like an ideal combination.” 

“Awesome! There we have it. Their profiles are finished, now we only need to make it happen.” Gabriel smiled widely. This was going to be fun. 

_Aziraphale: _

_Human age 48, a baker, also a shop-keeper; previously a teacher, although he studied Literature, he has hardly ever used his degree. Enjoys lazing around, a foodie, with a history of failed love affairs, generally a hedonist- his angelic essence should suffer. Very likely to cause chaos. _

_Crowley:_

_Human age 49, a florist/decorator, previously a lawyer, very successful and righteous. A terrible quality for someone demonic. Has lived a fair but lonely life. A ladies' man. Hates snakes. _

~~~

Aziraphale had a sweet tooth, admittedly. He had loved food in general as long as he could remember; however, sweets held a special place in his heart. He worked in a patisserie, which was a huge plus for a sweets person. His boss was a bit of an arsehole sometimes, which made him want to quit, but everything else was bearable.

Generally, Aziraphale didn’t have too many leftovers. The store had a policy that the workers could take the leftovers home. Aziraphale almost always did, mostly because he was the only steady worker there. Still, sometimes it wasn’t possible- he could only pack away as much. In those cases, he usually used the spare pastries as duck food.

He strolled through St. James’ park one autumn afternoon, looking for a spot to feed the ducks with his precious, now stale, pastries.

Even on that day Aziraphale decided to go feed the ducks. He had nibbled on some pieces already, however he wouldn’t eat any old ones- those were meant only for the ducks. He was standing by the lake, throwing pastries to the few ducks that had swum up.

“You know it’s bad for them, right?” Someone asked Aziraphale in a belittling tone. He turned to the owner of said voice slowly, rather confused.

“Err- excuse me?”

The man standing only a couple of steps away from him appeared to have also been feeding the ducks, only with something else, hidden in a little bag he was holding. He was rather tall and slim, with hair falling to his shoulders. His hair was wonderful mix of red and ginger, partially tied in a bun, although a great deal was lining his face. He was wearing dark skinny jeans and an over-sized, elongated grey top (with Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures logo on it, not that Aziraphale would know) and a pair of sunglasses. It was an interesting, fashionable and rather androgynous outfit. Aziraphale felt under-dressed in his soft sweater and a pair of slacks.

The man spoke again.

“Well, bread is sort of a duck junk food, you know. It only fills them up, but has no nutritional value. If they are fed too much bread, they might have issues with weight or malnutrition.” The man seemed to know an awful lot about ducks. “It’s the same with humans, after all.”

Aziraphale frowned. He felt a bit silly. He had been feeding ducks duck junk food all this time. He also felt a bit self-conscious, because the comment seemed like a personal attack. Or maybe he was just overly sensitive that day. He was definitely softer than he should have been, and it was definitely the pastries’ fault.

“Oh.” He let out, with his brows still knitted. He glanced at his bread, and the ducks, and bit his lip. 

“What should I feed them then?” He turned to the stranger again.

“Corn’s fine. I usually do corn.” The man said. “What else...? Peas. Grapes. The lot. It’s actually healthy for them.” He showed the other the inside of his sack, grinning. It wasn’t a smug grin, though. Maybe inviting? It was a grin that bamboozled Aziraphale.

He smiled a smile which was meant to be polite, but turned out to be undeniably nervous. “Ah- alright, thank you, then.” Aziraphale turned back to his ducks, not sure what he was to do with the new information or the leftover pastries.

“I meant- you- you can take some of my corn.” The man shifted closer, shaking the sack of corn kernels a little.

Aziraphale inspected it. It was a small linen bag. Some people bought pastries into those, to help the environment or something. He was keen on the idea, too. It was more difficult to actually live that way, though.

“Oh- thank you-“ Aziraphale paused slightly, as he didn’t know the man’s name. 

“Uh- Crowley. It’s Anthony Crowley, but I prefer just Crowley. A-Anything for... the ducks” He smiled awkwardly.

Aziraphale found the gesture sweet, and smiled brightly as he reached into the bag. “I’m Aziraphale. Nice to meet you, Crowley.”

[Lady Koshmar](https://ladykoshmar.tumblr.com/)'s art ♥ 

~~~

When Crowley first noticed the handsome man feeding the ducks by his side, which by the way was exactly what he himself had been doing there, he knew he needed to get his attention somehow. The other thing brought to his attention was that the man clearly didn't know what the ducks should be fed. It seemed like a decent conversation starter.

It took him some time to actually approach the other. At first he simply observed. He was around Crowley's age, of average height, on the plump side, with platinum, maybe even white hair. He had an adorably upturned nose, and was smiling at the ducks like a goofball. Crowley's brain lit up. He enjoyed the sight. The more he was, inconspicuously, of course, looking at him, the more certain he became he needed to get to know him, for some reason unknown to him. Finally, he spoke. It maybe seemed a bit harsh, but it did the magic.

Before he knew it, they were sharing frozen corn and feeding the ducks together as if it was the most natural thing in the world (at least in Crowley's point of view). Crowley had the tiniest smile on his face. It was time for him to leave soon, though. He looked at his watch. "Oh, shit, I'll have to go... Well, I believe I'll see you around, Aziraphale. Maybe tomorrow?" Crowley gave him a grin.

Aziraphale nodded, nervous. "Ah, maybe. I-I suppose so. I cannot promise anything, unfortunately." He then smiled. It was a sweet, light one, still a bit anxious though.

They both parted ways.

The next day, Crowley came again. Aziraphale wasn't around, unfortunately. He must've been busy or something, obviously. He decided not to make a big deal of it. It wasn't his place to overthink their interaction.

He had stuff to do.

Crowley was a florist. He was slightly obsessed with plants, to say the least. He spoke to them on daily basis- apparently it did something to them. Plants were good listeners.

He owned a moderately-sized, fairly successful flower shop in the central London. He was good at what he did. Plants were a hobby of his. And people these days finally started to understand the love for plants, which made him incredibly happy. He studied law first, and worked long enough so that he could afford to stop practicing law and go his own way, which happened to happen at his mid forties. Just when his career was at its peek, he dropped everything to live his life as a florist.

It was a dream come true for Crowley. He wasn't really the type to settle down with a family. He didn't really have a stable relationship either. All he needed on order to be happy contained chlorophyll.

That was going to change.

~~~

Crowley didn't think about Aziraphale too much. Aziraphale barely thought about the encounter with Crowley.

Yet, they sometimes did. Every other day, maybe. 

Actually it was more often than either would admit. Crowley wanted to see the man again. He often came to the park, hoping to run into the man, but mainly just to feed the ducks.

Aziraphale thought about how awkward he was. He subconsciously avoided the park. He stopped feeding the ducks the leftovers, so he had to go there no reason anymore, anyway.

They went on with their lives, more or less. Crowley's store was thriving that autumn and winter. There was a new service he provided- people could bring their sick plants in and he would do his best to help them (which sometimes stood for yell at them to get it together and it worked). He was glad to be able to help people with their plants.

Hell didn't put a terribly amount of effort into taking care of the whole Crowley business, which was why they decided to make him self-sufficient in the first place. They didn't check in on him often, but every now and then one of the demons would go to the flower shop to purchase a plant, or maybe to heal a plant. One time, the plant they brought was burned, practically to ashes. They didn't understand why Crowley was so upset or why he simply didn't heal the plant.

Heaven was more pedantic, as always. Gabriel nominated himself as the "patisserie owner". It consisted of him reading more on human behaviour, but he felt like he was, in general terms, a decent human. As Aziraphale's boss, he could be a bit of a dick. It was a human thing, according to his sources. The Archangel made sure Aziraphale was dependent on him and the patisserie. His paycheck was just enough for him to push through. He had lived in luxury before, miracling currencies as if they were nothing. It was very well possible the two of them could have caused inflation with the way they made money happen out of thin air.

The agreement was that if the two of them were to meet, they'd try to avoid it. Of course, with Hell doing a rather poor job on their side, it wasn't exactly how they planned it to be. Neither of the sides had had any idea Aziraphale and Crowley accidentally met.

They had no idea they were about to meet again.

It was the middle of January.

A tall barn was filled with lovely floral decorations, from the walls to the chairs. There was a wedding happening soon, and Aziraphale had been appointed as the one to bring the cake and the pastries there. He was beyond thrilled that he could also be a guest there. He knew the lucky couple well enough- Newt, the future husband, was a frequent visitor at his shop. He would come there to work and have a cup of tea. There were a few accidents over the laptop and any liquid Newt happened to have by it at the moment, which is mainly how they got to know each other.

Aziraphale was organizing vanilla cupcakes around the wedding cake at the moment. He was proud of how marvelous it came to be. A few tiers of chocolate cake covered by a thin white layer of cream and richly decorated by beautiful edible flowers stood on the table in from of him. The blond could barely move the cake, let alone lift it, so it was the cake’s final destination, he hoped.

Enthralled by the display, he paid no attention to his surroundings. A pair of amber eyes had been following him for a while now, as he was shifting, bending, fidgeting and arranging.

Crowley was in charge of the floral decorations, the bouquets and such. It wasn’t too much work once everything was settled, so he was free to enjoy the view of the other man. 

He certainly wasn’t the one to stare! From time to time though, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from people. Especially attractive people with nice, round bottoms.

Aziraphale looked wonderfully in his cream suit.

The ginger smirked to himself as he slowly approached.

Aziraphale had finished the arrangement of the pastries, and was proudly admiring his work, when a fairly familiar voice reached his ears.

“I certainly did not expect to see you here~” Crowley sing-sang with a toothy smile as Aziraphale turned around. Again, the redhead looked dashingly handsome in a maroon suit accented with a black collar and a black shirt with a black bow tie.

Aziraphale’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly. “Oh, so we meet again!” He let out, surprised.

Crowley could see his suit in its entirety, and he looked stunning. Aziraphale had a cream waistcoat to match the outfit too. Not everyone looked as good in such garment as the blond did. His figure filled it out in all the right places.

“I suppose so.” Crowley hummed cooly. “I also suppose we shall be sitting together.” He added. Crowley knew very well they were going to sit together, he had checked.

Aziraphale looked at the round tables in the hall. There were eight places at each table, and he had already noticed he was going to sit by the window, at a table which was the furthest away from the newly weds.

“That’s interesting to meet here, that we both know the couple.” He smiled a queasy smile. “Quite... unusual, you could say.”

Crowley nodded, amused. “You could. I know Anathema from some workshops.” He explained, carefully leaving out the information about how the workshops had been rather occult and esoteric.

"Oh, I first got to know Newt, but then then both started visiting my pastry shop, which is why I have the honour to provide the cakes here."

"You've a pastry shop?" Crowley asked, pleasantly surprised. He got a nod in response. 

"I- Well, I don't own the shop, but I take care of it. It's rather small so I don't need much help," said Aziraphale.

"That's still rather amazing. Funny thing is, I provided the flowers. I've got a flower shop."

Aziraphale wasn't too judgmental, but still, he didn't expect such profession from the man. He raised his brows. "Are you a florist?"

"I'm a lawyer. But I suppose I could be called a florist as well." Crowley shrugged, grinning.

Now Aziraphale was visibly confused, and decided to drop the topic. Crowley smirked, adoring the puzzled expression on the other's face. Without much further ado, they both agreed on moving to their table. They had missed out on the vows, since they had to prepare everything. But neither seemed to care too much.

As they approached their table, Crowley smoothly moved over to pull Aziraphale's chair for him. "Here you go." He smiled.

"Oh, why thank you." The blond replied, a small blush on his face. He didn't expect the gesture and wasn't certain whether the other man was courting him or was just being polite. He was secretly hoping for the former, but didn't want to get his hopes too high.

[Esmiora](https://twitter.com/esmiora)'s art ♥ 

Crowley sat down beside him very casually. He was really smooth in the way he presented himself and Aziraphale was melting on the inside. He decided to stare at the table blankly in hopes of looking thoughtful.

"What's with the name, Aziraphale?" Crowley asked suddenly.

"Oh. Well- actually.." Aziraphale widened his eyes slightly. He wasn't so sure himself. "My parents must've liked it... It is definitely unusual." He shrugged. He couldn't recall a conversation of such kind, although now that he thought about it, it sounded like a reasonable question.

Crowley seemed to agree. "I s'ppose." He then got his phone out and started typing something.

Aziraphale sat by him, wondering why people enjoyed those touchscreens so much. He had a good old button phone and he couldn't be happier with it.

"Apparently I can't even find the origin of your name, let alone the meaning. Pretty unique, if you asked me." Crowley smiled.

"I think my parents were rather religious, names ending with -el are mostly connected to God... Angels often have names ending by -el, so it must be something Biblical." The blond murmured. He wasn't sure why he knew that; probably something he picked up during his studies, he thought as he took a sip of water.

"That's understandable, of course. You do have angelic face," said Crowley in the most casual yet suave way possible, and Aziraphale nearly choked on his water.

After a moment of slight coughing, Aziraphale glanced at the other shyly. "Oh-" 

Crowley stood up suddenly. "I'll be right back, I need to get the bouquets ready." He explained as if nothing happened and left the table. Maybe Crowley was just giving him a plain compliment. That must've been it. There was no way someone could be so straightforward.

It wasn't long before the tables filled up with guests. Crowley was helping around the flowers in a small room by the hall, just as he said. The newlyweds stood in front of it, having people congratulate them. Crowley, in the meanwhile, placed each new bouquet into a vase, proud that none of them were as beautiful as his. In the back of his mind he was wondering if being so flirty so soon was a good idea. 

The truth was he couldn't help himself. He felt like he already knew everything he needed to know about the man, although he barely knew his name. It was a weird feeling of deja vu. Aziraphale felt familiar.

"Crowley?" Anathema's voice echoed in the room. "Could you please hand me your flowers? I'd like to get a few pictures with them too, now that we're done with everyone's wishes." She said cheerfully. No wonder- after all, she just got married.

Anathema was beautiful on that day. She made the dress herself- it was light pink and airy and she looked like a fairy of some kind, with only some gentle makeup and her long dark hair flowing freely over her shoulders. By her side, Newt stood in his brown suit, with a light pink bow-tie to match the dress. It was an interesting choice, but they insisted on a natural, vintage-themed wedding with lots of brown, gentle pink, and naturally, white.

Crowley gave her the bouquet, and she quickly starting posing for the pictures, instructing Newt along the way. It amused the ginger man. They were a goofy, sweet couple. Eventually Anathema dragged Crowley into a few pictures with them, which he was indifferent to, and then they proceeded to get seated so everything could continue smoothly. As he returned to the table, he noticed Aziraphale was having a conversation with some people around the table, which Crowley wasn't in the mood to join, so he simply sat down and poured himself some wine.

The party was going rather well, even though Crowley felt as if Aziraphale was avoiding him. He wasn't too happy about that, but maybe it was just a bad feeling he had. Crowley often had the tendency to overthink. He didn't want to be too nosy anyway, and so he let the other be as he was wandering around the venue, chatting up with random people and being a casual flirt.

~~~

Meanwhile, somewhere in Heaven, Gabriel was just about to perform his random check on Aziraphale. One would think the timing was perfect. It was, only not for Aziraphale. The Archangel sat down by a giant, marble table that was his workplace, and tuned in into Aziraphale's point of view. He was aware of the wedding, but couldn't care less about the event. Nothing seemed unusual about the location. Aziraphale was talking to someone and eating something Gabriel believed humans called "cake", which wasn't unexpected. The Principality really enjoyed human food even as an angel, so now, with the need to feed his vessel, Gabriel didn't consider it as weird as before. What he did find weird was the tension emitting from Aziraphale, so he decided to stay tuned a bit longer.

In a short moment, Aziraphale glanced away from the person he was speaking to. He seemed to have been looking for- well, Gabriel didn't know who or what exactly. He couldn't, sadly, read his mind. That would have been a great feature, now that he thought of it. He was going to consider adding it.

Then he saw. He saw the demon. Right there at the wedding. Aziraphale was staring at the demon. Gabriel grew furious as Aziraphale seemed captivated by him.

Gabriel was almost certain they couldn't have met before, unless Hell was doing poor work on their part. It was at that moment the Archangel realized that Hell was not to be trusted and was definitely doing a poor job, and that he needed to act fast to avoid any confrontation of the two. Technically, he wasn't supposed to intervene to such extremes. However, he felt what Aziraphale felt while staring at the demon. It was definitely too positive, the feeling. Which is why he decided to bend the rules a little.

He immediately sent a passive aggressive message to Beelzebub. It read something along the lines of: "Thank you for doing wonderful job on your part. C. and A. are both at the same wedding now. I'd love to hear from you soon so you could explain the situation to me."

Beelzebub, upon received the message, immediately showed up on their usual meeting place. Gabriel had already been waiting there.

They looked sligthly nervous, but still tried to maintain a confident expression (and obviously, failing). "Listen, I know we were supposed to report the location more often- but to my defense we are fairly busy in Hell. We have to actually torture people... and... stuff." They crossed their arms.

Gabriel wasn't having it. "I couldn't possibly care less." He gave the other a bitter smile. "Now they are about to meet! They may have met already." He frowned.

"I don't see what the problem is. It was obviously an accident- maybe they were simply meant to meet." The demon shrugged. "And we can simply go separate them now, as if nothing happened."

"Alright." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I absolutely love how simple you make it seem."

Beelzebub pulled an annoyed expression. "Because it is."

And so they made themselves look more human and hurried to Earth.

~~~

The party was going rather well. Aziraphale found himself busy as much as he could, talking to boring a few boring people, but the more wine found its way down his throat, the more encouraged he felt. He wanted to talk to Crowley. So they could get to know one other better. It wasn't too hard to talk when he was more than tipsy. He stood up and fetched his coat. Then, trying to walk as straight as possible, he started approaching Crowley, who was standing in a small circle of people. He had been watching the ginger man all night long, so naturally he knew exactly where to go.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale called out cheerfully. "There you are, dear boy!"

As he excused himself and turned around, Crowley saw Aziraphale standing right behind him, looking somewhat different. As he spoke some more, it was clear what the difference was.

"I-I'd been meaning to talk to you-", he hiccuped, "about something... important." The blond frowned, giving Crowley a meaningful look. He was rather wasted, Crowley thought immediately.

Aziraphale's bow tie had been loosened, his top few shirt buttons undone and his hair messier than before. Crowley tilted his head lightly. "Are you alright, Aziraphale?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

The other nodded eagerly. "I'm perfectly well. I only need to talk. It's urgent." He gently pulled on Crowley's sleeve, quickly enough so no one but Crowley could notice.

"Sure. Let's- let's talk then, alright?" Crowley smiled lightly, but also nervously, unsure of what to think, and proceeded to drag Aziraphale outside of the building, getting his coat on the way.

There were only few people around the barn, the air was fresh and cold, and Crowley could see everyone's breath in the air as he led the blond a bit further away from the busier area. The sky was wonderfully clear, with no clouds in sight, and for whatever reason, Crowley felt a sense of accomplishment as he glanced up. The lack of London light and air pollution did wonders at night. The only source of light necessary there was the moonlight.

Crowley stopped by a lonely bench away from the buzz of the party, under a huge oak tree. As soon as they reached the location, Aziraphale plopped down on the bench and from presumably his coat he pulled out a bottle of wine. Crowley widened his eyes. "Well, that was unexpected." He murmured, reached for a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. "Fancy a smoke?" The ginger offered one to Aziraphale as he sat down next to him, and the other accepted it.

"So what would you like to talk about?" Crowley asked before lighting a cigarette for himself, and Aziraphale as well.

The blond hummed. "Thanks- well... you know, this is rather a-awkward. I don't know how to espress- esp- express myself too well about this... but... I do feel as if we should talk." He explained as well as he could, given that his tongue was messing up for him a bit.

Crowley took a long drag from his cigarette. "Funny you'd say that. I kind of felt the same way." He puffed out a cloud of smoke.

"Well. I-I feel like I know you? It's really weird. I-I know we've met once. But this... this is different, dear Crowley."

"Uhm. Really?" Crowley raised his brows, giving Aziraphale a good, long look. He would lie to himself had he said he didn't want to grab him right there and kiss him. It was a strange feeling and it was hard to explain- Crowley often flirted with people of all kind, yet this felt completely different from the others. Aziraphale made him feel mushy on the inside. He had the weird need to protect and help him or something.

"Really. I feel so nervous around you- I generally do- but it's... something else with you." Aziraphale sighed. "I want to spend time with you, Crowley, and I have no clue why... I can't put it into words... I suppose it's ineffable."

Ineffable. That word rang in Crowley's ears. He nearly choked on his cigarette upon hearing it. "Agk-" He let out in between coughs. "Who even uses words like that-" Crowley knitted his brows, looking at the other questioningly. He knew the word. He couldn't recall where he heard it from.

"I do." Aziraphale frowned back.

Silence fell upon them momentarily. They both stared into the other's eyes with confused expression, since neither could quite figure out what was it they shared that made it all feel almost familiar. Even though there was so much they couldn't remember, they couldn't remember that they couldn't remember.

"Maybe it's something from our past life," suggested Crowley after a while.

Aziraphale snorted. "There is no such thing as past lives. We must know each other from this life... Maybe university. What'd you study?"

"Law, Oxford. You?"

"Literature. London." He pouted.

"And you're a baker now?"

"I'm not only a baker! I run the shop. I do the taxes. I am so many things."

Crowley rolled his eyes, turning away from the other. "Alright, alright. But you do bake, don't you?" He added with a smirk.

Aziraphale scrunched up his nose, but decided not to linger on the question. "Anyway, I think it's not education. Even though, admittedly, I cannot remember a single thing from that time. It feels... as if... it happened, but not really happened..." He said thoughtfully.

"Wait- really? It sorta the same for me. Although you, something about you- or- no, something about being with you is very different from the rest of my life." Crowley said a little quietly, staring at the ground past his burning cigarette. 

"Honestly, I couldn't agree more." Aziraphale said in agreement.

They sat together in understanding silence for a moment, Crowley staring down at the ground, Aziraphale stargazing, both finishing the lit cigarette. Then the blond spoke again. "It's weird, how life works in mysterious ways, isn't it?"

Crowley looked up into the sky as well. "Mhm." He brushed his hand against Aziraphale's casually as he put them into his pockets.

"I need more wine." The blond said quickly and popped the bottle open. It was rosé, stolen from the inside, even though technically everything was meant for the guests, so it wasn't really stolen.

He took a swig from the bottle, then offered it to Crowley, who accepted. "I could use a bit of alcohol as well."

It wasn't long before the bottle was empty. The wine was light and sweet but hit the head strongly. They spoke about many little things, but the overall conversation got more slurred as the bottle grew more empty. 

Aziraphale felt warm on the inside. He felt bolder as well, and slowly moved closer to Crowley, so that their arms touched. The other obviously didn't mind that much.

"I think I have had... feelings for people before, but this is somethin' else, dear Crowley." The blond whispered, almost under his breath. Crowley hummed in response, and Aziraphale didn't even notice when Crowley's arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. He felt his cheeks grow hotter than they were before, and slowly laid his head on the other man's shoulder.

They sat there for a while, watching the stars, just the two of them. There wasn't much else to do, and even if there was, neither Aziraphale nor Crowley were interested.

It was a perfect, picturesque moment. That is until a heavy hand fell onto Aziraphale's shoulder.

"Aziraphale?!" A stern voice called, and the blond knew it very well. It was Gabriel, his boss and the owner of the establishment. Aziraphale wasn't sure how or why he got there. Crowley's hand quickly sneaked away and they both stood up clumsily.

"Heh, Gabriel!" Aziraphale let out with a short, nervous chuckle. He smiled in the same manner. "W-what brings you here?"

"I have a complaint here about the desserts." The tall man said, frowning. He looked intimidating to Crowley, who stood by pale Aziraphale in silence. He didn't like the man. Or his tone. And the way he spoke to Aziraphale as if he was better than the precious blond.

"We'll talk inside, you're clearly drunk." He added, motioning to the barn. Strangely, Aziraphale looked genuinely worried, maybe even scared. Crowley didn't like it.

"What the fuck does that mean?!" The redhead exclaimed, vaguely gesturing to the other two. "Why would anyone barge into a wedding to shit on their employees?" He was very confused.

Before Aziraphale could give it much thought, Gabriel snapped. "There was glass in a cupcake you made yesterday! Someone called me to complain about it! I'm sorry, but I only want the best for my customers. And Aziraphale needs to be held responsible." He looked at the clearly anxious blond, who had no idea how such thing could even happen. He was always very careful!

Crowley was left standing there alone as Aziraphale wordlessly obeyed, following Gabriel inside like a sad, worried puppy. There was something weird about the situation, he could tell. Yet he lit up a cigarette, deciding to give them some time. Why he wanted to punch that bastard Gabriel in the face was beyond him. The feeling he had towards Gabriel was similar to the one he had towards Aziraphale, although admittedly they were very opposite emotions.

He was rolling the cigarette between his fingers, annoyed by everyone (except maybe Aziraphale, but even he could have stood up for himself). Crowley was often annoyed, or bitter, or generally angry, and the world of today wasn't making it too hard to swing into those moods. People pissed him off. On the other hand, he undeniably loved pissing people off. It was quite a balance, he thought to himself as he took a long drag of the cig.

"D'you have a light?" Someone asked from behind him. He turned to see who it was, ready to offer a lighter. He could do with a distraction.

There was a small figure behind him in a nice, black suit, with dark, short hair and a very gentle make-up. A rather familiar person. Not bad-looking. Maybe they have met someday already. Crowley nodded. "Sure- here."

He noticed a shiny brooch on their suit as he flipped the lighter open for them to light up their cigarette, and with the source of light he saw it was a very beautiful, detailed fly. An interesting choice.

"Thanks. Quite 'fun' here, huh?" They spoke again. "I could not be bored any more."

"Ah- I guess, yeah, it isn't really my kind of party." Crowley replied. "Are you family?"

"More like a friend. Of N- New- Ne- ugh, of the groom." They almost seemed to have stuttered there at Newt. "So what's your name?"

"Crowley." He blew out another cloud of smoke.

"Nice to meet you, Crowley. I'm Bee- just Bee." They smiled awkwardly.

"Nice to meet ya too. Have we- have we met before?"

"What? No- no way. Never. I would remember a face like yours." They said, and blinked in a somewhat weird way, as if they meant to wink, but with both eyes. Crowley hummed.

"I feel like I know you. But whatever."

Their eyes widened in, to Crowley’s confusion, panic. "No way. You don’t. Anyway-" They looked at the palm of the hand quickly and then grinned at Crowley. "Tell me about yourself." They suddenly had a little bottle of whiskey in their hand.

It was a suspicious interaction to say the least, Crowley wasn't one to judge though. He simply cleared his voice and tried to keep the conversation going in a less awkward way. He did manage to do that, and so did Bee(lzebub). In the end they ending up having a blast, and with the alcohol consumed he didn't find it weird when Bee started leading him somewhere.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was yelling at Aziraphale about the glass found in the cupcake, and Aziraphale didn't have any idea about how it could've happened. He was starting to feel desperate. They sat in a car, so that Gabriel could freely yell his lungs out.

Gabriel did enjoy scolding people a bit too much. Especially people like Aziraphale, who happened to be as pitiful of a human in his eyes as he used to be an angel. He didn't like the being, and for once he could vent his feelings in a suitable way.

"How could you let this happen, Aziraphale?!" He threw his hands in the air vigorously. "This was just like that one time you left eggshells in the batter!" He continued his rant, and suddenly Aziraphale had a memory of it happening vividly imprinted in his mind. "Or the time you left the oven on and nearly burned the place down! You really are skating on thin ice over here, Aziraphale. And I am honestly surprised it hadn't cracked yet." He looked at Aziraphale's body judgmentally. "And anyway, you should be very happy I haven't fired you yet. You may think you're great at what you do, but I have some news for you- you are not!"

At this point, Aziraphale was feeling angry and desperate, but he was honestly too scared to speak up- he loved his job. If this was the Principality Aziraphale, with everything he has known and has done, he'd tell him off. But this wasn't that Aziraphale. With most of his memories and in his current situation, a great deal of his confidence was wiped away. He stared at the clock in the car and watched the minutes pass by. It was around two in the morning.

Eventually, Gabriel let him go back to the party, knowing full well he had done just enough, and that Beelzebub would take care of the rest. Aziraphale didn't even question the absurdity of the situation. He returned to the reception to eat away his sorrow.

Grabbing a few finger foods and going back out in hopes of finding Crowley again sounded like a good idea. As he walked around the buffet tables though, he noticed drunk Crowley in a back room surrounded by equally drunk bridesmaids, who were rather touchy.

Well, of course Crowley would be surrounded by some young ladies. It only made sense. All the blond wanted to do at this point was to curl up at home with his books and cocoa. He went back to his seat, defeated, and nibbled on some weird shrimps he had found. Then an lady his age started talking to him about her five chihuahuas, and he couldn't get rid of her for the rest of the event without being impolite.

Crowley was indeed surrounded by a bunch of ladies. He didn't mind, being as drunk as he was, although he wasn't sure where Bee went. One lady was playing with his bow tie, and he was starting to feel slightly intimidated. What he didn't notice was the woman gently suggested her friends to leave them alone. They all started giggling and excused themselves.

The lady tugged on his bow tie again once it was just the two of them, and in doing so pulled Crowley into a kiss. The redhead didn't mind, although he did have hopes of getting to do this with Aziraphale before. The woman whose name he didn't remember was a great kisser, and he soon didn't think about Aziraphale. He imagined him instead.

The next morning, Crowley awoke in his flat. He couldn't remember what happened after around 2 a.m., and he had a terrible headache. He got up slowly, his head pounding, and took a sip of the glass of water from his bedside table. Then he noticed a neatly written note. It was written by Anathema, and it read: "Remember anything?" He didn't. Well, not from the night before, anyway. He did, however, remember everything else. At first, he didn't think anything was weird. Sometimes, he had elaborate dreams, when he slept for more than a week. This could have been the case.

Then he glanced at the calendar in his flat. It was the day after the wedding. His blood froze. It wasn't a dream. This wasn't his apartment. This was the Florist Crowley's flat. Despite the headache Crowley jumped to his feet. He remembered- he remembered how he met Aziraphale anew a few months ago, and how he met him yesterday and how Gabriel yelled at him and how they kissed- well, they didn't kiss. He kissed someone who wasn't Aziraphale. But he so badly wanted her to be his precious angel, finally after 6000 years.

He needed to think. He needed to consider his next steps carefully. Something vile was going on.

He remembered how he couldn't do anything demonic without his memories- so he tried now. He tried to move a glass. Without touching it. Nothing happened.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck." Crowley was angry. He was obviously still human, ability-wise.

He remembered how Beelzebub was with him yesterday. Along with the arsehole, Gabriel. They must have had their fingers in this, he thought. Playing along as if he remembered nothing seemed like the best idea. That- and he needed to see Aziraphale. He needed to tell him. He decided to call him, but the line was dead.

He grabbed a jacket, his car keys, and a bottle of water, and hurried to the bookshop.

It wasn't there.

Then, his phone rang. It was Anathema.

"Hello, Crowley! I wanted to thank you for the beautiful flowers yesterday. I hope you do remember at least the important things that had happened." She said, somewhat mysterious.

"Err- hi- I'm really confused now."

Anathema cleared her voice, then added quietly. "Listen, pretend as if nothing happened. He's alright. But you'll have to stay more distant. They are watching over you, you wouldn't want to mess it up now." Then, a small chuckle could be heard. "Sorry, I mean, she's alright, the girl from yesterday, she left quite upset because you called her by someone else's name. I think you should stay distant, you shouldn't mess it up more now."

So Crowley told himself to wait, because he trusted Anathema enough. He only had a lot of questions. How did she know? What even happened? Why did he get his memories back, but not his powers?

It was puzzling, because suddenly all the relationships he had for the past few months seemed fake. He had a few frequent customers, he knew some people from the neighbouring shops, but none of them seemed like they knew him, because, well, they didn't. He really wanted Aziraphale back. But obviously, Aziraphale didn't have his powers back either. He would've done something by now, Crowley hoped.

Did he remember? Crowley honestly didn't see Aziraphale since Gabriel led the angel away from him, but their conversation on the bench made a lot more sense now that he knew what happened to them.

Things about being a human bothered him now. He was actually required to eat sometimes. He had to pay for gas. He couldn't sober up as easily (and this one, he needed the most). It was annoying. He wanted to trip people on the streets again and, well, do evil. At least from time to time. But now he was technically punishable by law, and ending up in prison, was not a good idea. However, since he had been granted the knowledge of law, he decided to think of the ways to break it. That was the least evil thing he could do, because it was something humans did too. So in his free time, he tried to occupy himself by doing little frauds and embezzlement.

It was fun, and it kept his thoughts away from the angel. This lasted for a few weeks. They were tiring and as he thought back, he didn't understand how he could function that way for months. And then again, most of the time the thoughts of Aziraphale came back, and he thought about how he was doing. If he was alright or not. He didn't know anything at all, and the way Gabriel talked to him was still making him furious, because the Aziraphale he now remembered would never let Gabriel speak to him that way.

They really hurt his angel- even though he himself was doing rather fine, which didn't make much sense to him. Hell thought demons would hate a decent human life, but no. It was alright. The worst thing he had to go through was to be nice, at least nice in human terms, most of the time, with no evil deeds and no pranks and no fun whatsoever. That was the only thing making him miserable (beside terribly missing Aziraphale).

Until finally, he got a message from Anathema, which read:

"We'll meet at your shop today. I need to explain the situation."

He was ready, waiting in the shop all day, until she finally came with a big, thick book. 

“Let me explain it to you, from what I know, as fast as I can.” She said just as she waltzed in, dropping the book on his counter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! I do plan to elaborate on this fic more in the future.
> 
> Hope you check out the rest of the works in this bang! ♥


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